


Cut Me Loose In Contradiction

by GoofyGoldenGirl



Category: Miraculous Ladybug
Genre: 1990s, Alcohol, Ambiguity, Character Study, Clubbing, Drunkenness, Explicit Language, F/M, Flirting, Friendship, Heartbreak, Inspired by Music, One-Sided Attraction, Pre-Canon, Sexual Content, Sexual Experimentation, Songfic, Third Wheels, Unclear Motivations, Unhealthy Relationships
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-15
Updated: 2020-09-15
Packaged: 2021-03-07 01:55:27
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,557
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26479075
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GoofyGoldenGirl/pseuds/GoofyGoldenGirl
Summary: Gabriel was all it took for Nathalie's world to turn upside down
Relationships: Emilie Agreste/Gabriel Agreste | Papillon | Hawk Moth, Gabriel Agreste | Papillon | Hawk Moth/Nathalie Sancoeur
Comments: 4
Kudos: 23





	Cut Me Loose In Contradiction

**Author's Note:**

> _Does his makeup in his room. Douse himself with cheap perfume. Eyeholes in a paper bag. Greatest lay I ever had. Kind of guy who mates for life. Gotta help him find a wife. We’re a couple when our bodies double_ [ Nancy Boy ](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=RbCvjxjGiKE) Placebo

#### Summer 1997

The frantic, harsh beat blaring from the mini stereo sent Emilie flying out of her makeup chair. The ends of her strapless, metallic blue minidress flared. The drums started and her arms lifted with a victorious shout.

“This is _it!_ This is the song I’m gonna dance for him!”

Nathalie set her lipstick down on the vanity. She turned to see Emilie’s heel slide out with a stumble. She skidded back with a slow wiggle of her hips. Hands shot up. Wove through her long, blonde hair and played with the flower clip she had pinned on. She raised her head back, her voice warbly in an attempt to match the singer’s nasally tone and keep up with the English lyrics. 

“Alcoholique kind ohf mood. Loose mai close loose mai loobe—“

Nathalie didn’t think that tonight’s music suggestion would go this well. Emilie had always leaned towards cheesy pop and ABBA, and never in a million years did she believe that Emilie would be receptive to give a British indie band a try. Then again, surprise was Emilie’s unofficial middle name. Had been since the day when Emilie approached Nathalie at the library and asked if she could sit next to her. A mountain of textbooks on the table, a pair of snug fitting headphones, the jarring contrast of combat boots and a prep school uniform, and a bold streak of red that snaked through midnight black hair, that would have prevented most people, especially one with a high social status as Emilie’s from approaching her. And there was that first surprise: her willingness for company and in the two years she had known her, Emilie was the closest thing Nathalie had to a best friend if she believed in the concept. And well, with further thought, Gabriel was too.

_Gabriel_

Lipstick smudged against the side of Nathalie’s finger as she pushed the cover on. She reached for a tissue to wipe it off and glanced up at the mirror to be met with the picture of Gabriel that Emilie had taped above. 

_So I can make sure who I’m making myself like drop dead gorgeous for!_ Emilie’s voice from a conversation a few weeks back rang in Nathalie’s head. 

Gabriel Agreste. A university boy attending _Ecole de la Chambre Syndicale._ He and Emilie met at a fashion gala during one of the coldest nights back in February. The chemistry between them sparked instantly and as the weeks passed, he became more than just another fling to Emilie. It was love, the _real thing_ this time, and Nathalie just had to meet him. On a sunny afternoon, just when spring began to creep in, Gabriel arrived on Emilie’s arm on a passing breeze in the park. Beams of sunlight streaming down from the gaps between the trees’ branches brightened the top of his coifed, pale blond hair. He stood tall, with an air of sophistication most young men did not carry themselves with. Though the cold made his cheeks rosy, and he was bundled up in an old fashioned trench coat that fell to his knees, he radiated warmth through the sparkle in his eyes and a serene smile as Emilie prattled on and tugged at his sleeve. It blew against Nathalie and pressed with a force so hard that she feared she’d topple over. And in a way she did, with a sink of her heart, then a sudden jolt that made it beat fast as Gabriel stopped in front of her. Her mind went blank. The warmth around them chilled. Emilie’s excited voice broke through.

_Gabey this is Nathalie! You know like my best friend—_

Irises of deep blue layered with coldness and curiosity bore through Nathalie. Her cheeks prickled with a freezing burn. Puffs of air fogged up her glasses. Heart gave another pump, and with it the incentive to speak. 

_Nice to meet you_ Her words were so soft that they hardly resonated.

He nodded. One more look, and his curt lips turned up into a hint of a smile.

_Gabriel. A pleasure._

Those three words, low and melodious against her ears, was all it took for Nathalie’s world to turn upside down.

Around strangers and acquaintances, Gabriel came off as a stoic, and an insensitive human being. But when he was alone with the girls, his icy exterior skipped the melting phase and evaporated into thin air. He was charming with his flattery, snarky and sharp with his wit, and after a couple of drinks, someone who was not afraid to be physical with his affection. And in the rare moments where Nathalie found herself alone with him, Gabriel was a good listener, someone who gave great thought to everything he said, and a hard worker who dreamed about making it big in the fashion industry. He was the epitome of perfection to Nathalie’s eyes, who was tantalizingly dangled in front of her by the string that was Emilie. 

Nathalie averted her eyes from the photo. She kept her gaze straight ahead at her guilt ridden reflection and forced her tone to lighten up as she called out:

“Do you even know what that song is about?” Nathalie thought back to when she had dedicated an entire afternoon to translating the songs off of this particular album, with only a French to English dictionary and a music review from a rock magazine to guide her. 

“Who cares! It’s sexy and _perfect!_ ” Emilie exclaimed. 

The laughter that trailed off felt like Nathalie’s throat was closing up. What once would come off as a furtive smirk now felt like her lips were being stretched across the width of her cheeks. 

“It’s, _heh_ ” Her composure settled and she relaxed. “It’s about—“ 

A loud slam sent Nathalie spinning around with a shout. Emilie swayed with her eyes closed before she came to a halt. They opened with a flutter. She tilted her head to a side and dimpled her cheeks with a wide grin over by the now open bedroom door. 

“He-ey!” She said in a singsong voice. 

Sleeves of a silk bathrobe swooshed forward. Fuzzy slippers followed as Amelie, Emilie’s twin sister stormed over towards her. Loose strands slid from the many hairpins that held her hair up in a high, braided bun. Her hand shot out and an immaculately painted, long blue nail jabbed at Emilie’s chest.

“ _Why_ the hell are you wearing my dress?” Amelie shrieked. 

Emilie let out an overdramatic gasp. Her hand hovered over her mouth before she moved it out and down. 

“I don’t know what you’re talking about. I found this on the rack where Claudette puts all the dry clean stuff. How was I supposed to know it was yours?” her voice took on a sugary, innocent tone that Nathalie instantly knew to be fake.

Amelie’s slipper smashed against the ground. 

“It was in _my_ closet! My closet, where I don’t know, I keep my _things!_ Where I had put that dress so I could take it out for tonight! And you ruined _everything!_ Everything was perfect but you _ruined_ it! Do you know how much time I spent getting my nails to match the exact shade of this dress?” She brandished her manicured hand. 

“But like, who cares about that sort of thing?” Emilie asked in an overly ditzy voice. 

“ _I_ do you selfish slut!”

With a flip of her hair, Emilie calmly looked Amelie straight in the eyes and smiled. 

“ _I’m_ the slut? That’s like so funny coming from someone like you, who like you know, _blew_ the photographer just so you could get on the cover.”

Face to face with the mirror again, Nathalie removed her glasses and grabbed a tube of mascara. She raised it up to her already made up eyes and pretended to put more on. 

“You are such a hypocrite! _You’re_ the one who hops into bed with _anybody_ who possesses a dick—” 

Nathalie’s grip threatened to slide. The end of the applicator dripped streaks of coal black that smudged underneath her eye. The sisters’ shouts, childish and petty rang in her ears.

“You stole it on _purpose!_ Give it _back_!” 

“ _No!_ I’m wearing it so it’s _mine_ now. Too bad,” Emilie stuck her tongue out at Amelie and made a raspberry blowing sound.

Amelie’s body lunged forward. Emilie’s hand made a grabbing motion towards her bun, and the side of Nathalie’s combat boot collided against the vanity chair’s leg as she rose to her feet. 

“Guys! **Stop!** ”

The two girls stopped in their tracks. They turned towards Nathalie with dumbfounded expressions.

“Do you really wanna mess up your looks that you both worked _so_ hard on over something so _stupid_ over who stole a dress?” Nathalie gestured at them.

Two identical glares sent Nathalie back against the vanity’s edge. Self-conscious that she had stepped over the line, she glanced away and reached for her glasses. 

“This means _I’m_ right! She stole it!” Amelie shouted.

“No, _I’m_ right here, right Nathalie?”

Nathalie’s hand jerked down. She quickly readjusted her glasses before facing them again.

“I-I really don’t care. I just want to have a good time tonight ok?” Her tone had become more subdued. 

Emilie let out a vindicated sound.

“Ha! _I_ get to wear the dress and you can’t do anything about it sweetie,” it was her turn to jab a finger at her sister. 

Amelie scoffed. Emilie dashed back towards the vanity and fluffed her hair. 

“Oh my god I am going to look soooo good for Gabey tonight.”

Amelie’s finger twirled around one of the loose strands of hair. It curled then bounced as she sent a taunting look over at Emilie. 

“ _Him?_ Darling, I don’t know if you realized yet but that boy’s a _butterfly._ ”

Nathalie’s mouth tensed in an attempt to not let it hang open. Emilie laughed. 

“And if he fucking was, at least I actually _get_ some. Unlike _you._ ”

A roll of the eyes and a flash of Amelie’s middle finger preceded the _slam_ that made Nathalie wobble in place as the door closed once more. The electric guitar’s drone faded. Two seconds of silence passed before the next song was introduced with a mid tempo, melancholy, acoustic strumming. Nathalie’s shoulders rose as Emilie’s hands pressed down.

“Tonight is gonna be so much fun! Me, Gabey, and you! Partying til the sun comes up!”

Nathalie uneasily smiled at the mirror.

“Yeah. It’ll be fun.”

______________________ 

As always Gabriel was on time. Ten o clock on the dot, and in he strode into the Graham de Vanilly foyer bearing gifts for his girlfriend in a medium size Chanel bag: clothes that he had snagged off of the runway rack at his internship. A form fitting magenta top with a knee length white skirt. Matching wedge sandals, a scarf to complete the outfit, along with a vial of perfume.Emilie’s eager hands hugged the clothes close, ran through the fabric. Emilie's excited squeals and the tapping of her heels against the pristine marble floor bounced off the walls. 

At least no one's around to chew us out Nathalie thought to how the uptight M. and Mme Graham de Vanilly were on a wine tour in Northern Italy and that Amelie had already taken off for the night. 

“You got this all for _me_? But what if you get in trouble?” Emilie gazed up at Gabriel with puppy dog eyes. 

“Don’t worry darling, things go missing all the time. And if they do notice, they’ll think someone counted the inventory wrong. Which will let you,” Gabriel tilted her chin up with his finger. “Flaunt these clothes on that beautiful figure of yours for the whole world to see.”

Emilie pounced. Her lips puckered up and pressed against every inch of his face: forehead, nose, cheek, lips, chin. Nathalie’s hands wrung together in an attempt to suppress the thought that bubbled to the forefront of her mind. That she would rather endure the sight of Emilie and Amelie tearing each other to bits than watch Emilie and Gabriel’s lips mesh and fade into one. Eyes guilty and cast down at the tiles, she counted the lines and waited for it to be over. 

“Thank you Gabey! Thank you! Thank you! Thank you!” 

A gap in the prattle. Heavier steps echoed in Nathalie’s ears. A flip of the switch, and Nathalie gave no sign that she had been upset. Gabriel approached her. The outfit he wore for tonight’s adventure was his version of casual: a loose fitting white shirt that was cuffed by the elbow, a pair of midnight blue jeans, and a pair of brown loafers on his feet. But in true Gabriel style, there was one part of his perfectly planned outfit that he added to give it his own flair, and Nathalie noticed it immediately as he leaned in for the greeting kiss. 

“Hey Nathalie,” the thick black rim of his square shaped glasses almost bumped against the side of her head. His lips half grazed against her cheek, half against the air where they were supposed to be. Nathalie’s lips parted, eyelids fluttered as he passed. It was the feel of him pulling back that made her realize that she was lingering. His face moved in to kiss her other cheek and a selfish impulse flashed in her head.

_Maybe if I moved in the same direction, our lips will meet_

But Nathalie let the thought slide. She went for the opposite side and her lips met air. The feel of Gabriel’s lips on her cheek was enough to sate her desire. He was someone else’s and not hers’. 

“Last time I checked, you didn’t wear glasses,” she said. 

He smiled and made a grandiose gesture. 

“If Emilie is my muse on a grand scale, then you Nathalie are my musette for the little things. You look so poised, so much older than your years when you wear glasses. It inspired me to do the same.”

“Just remember to not bump into people when you kiss them,” Nathalie teased.

“Come on guys! Let’s get going!” Emilie exclaimed with a wave. 

Gabriel beamed over at her before turning back to Nathalie.

“I thought I wasn’t having any trouble. But I suppose I could be wrong.”

He gave her a knowing smile. Nathalie internally panicked.

______________________________________________________

There were no lines when it came to partying with a Graham de Vanity. The bouncers greeted Emilie at the door by name. Escorted her and her plus two up to the VIP lounge away from the masses on the main floor below. There underneath the dim club lights, with a pulsating pop song banging away at her eardrums, and by surrounded Paris’ entitled youth made her feel she was back at a party in Lycée. The over the top and equally as fake flattery Emilie’s “friends” showered her with gave way to disparaging glares as they assessed the newcomers. Nathalie took refuge behind Gabriel and Emilie. 

“This is my _boyfriend_ Gabriel!” 

Undeterred, Gabriel returned their lukewarm welcome in kind. He scowled with a tight grip on his girlfriend’s waist before addressing them with an unimpressed and judgmental coolness. It did the trick. Each “friend,” whether male or female’s behavior were suddenly much nicer to him. 

_I wish I had that courage to not let them walk all over me_ Nathalie thought. 

To top it off, Gabriel slipped in a complex word here and there on his side of the conversation. Befuddled expressions crossed the other kids’ faces as they struggled to keep up with him. Nathalie resisted the urge to snort. All the money in the world and access to Europe’s best schools and universities did not guarantee that these vapid airheads retained anything they learned. 

“Isn’t he like the _greatest_ guy ever? Gabey is like so sweet and he wouldn’t hurt a _fly._ Don’t you Gabey?” Emilie chirped.

Gabriel’s eyes were alight with a triumphant gloat. A hint of a smile broke through his icy demeanor. He looked over his shoulder at Nathalie as if to share his moment of glory with her. Their eyes met. She stepped forward. Hand reached out and brushed against his elbow before Emilie’s hand latched on her wrist and yanked her forward.

“This is my _best_ friend Nathalie!”

_Try to be like Gabriel_

Try was one thing. Obtaining that confidence was another. Their eyes scrutinized her appearance: the chain fastened in the belt loop of her leather pants, the dusty pair of combat boots on her feet, the black choker snaked around her neck, how her eyeshadow came out more smudged instead of smoky, and the unacceptable streak of red that crept up to the top of her ponytail. Nathalie felt small. Her eyes darted to the floor and her hello hardly hit the air. Emilie’s arm hooked around her shoulder. She pulled her in with an enthusiastic:

“Yeah she’s my best friend for like _forever!_ I trust her with like everything and whatnot and we do like _everything_ together!”

Emilie’s eyes flared in warning before becoming bright and bubbly once more. The conversation continued but it registered as drawn out sounds to Nathalie’s ears until Gabriel’s clear voice cut through: 

“I think we should get going.”

“Oh my god yeah I haven’t even had a drink yet! Drinks are like super important! I’ll totally catch up with you later! _Bye-Bye!_ ” Emilie leaned against Gabriel’s arm as she blew kisses at the “friends.”

Drinks were on the house. Emilie had already drained hers and was taking sips from Gabriel’s before she shouted at the bartender with a wave. Nathalie hadn’t touched hers. It sat on the counter and she watched how the ice cubes bobbed against the waves she made by tapping against the glass.

A tap on the shoulder. It startled her.

“You ok?” Gabriel asked.

“I’m fine,” Nathalie lied.

“No you’re not.”

His arm slid across her upper back. The pads of his fingers pressed, then the thick of his palm. Nathalie tensed. A sharp breath fogged up her glasses as she turned to face Gabriel.

“Don’t let it get to you. They’re all assholes anyway. Tell you the truth, if my job didn’t consist of networking and afterparties, I wouldn’t be in a place like this,” Gabriel said. 

Meanwhile, Emilie’s second empty glass crashed down on the counter. Thin arms propped her forward. She hollered at the bartender for shots. Two of her so called “friends” had joined her. Gabriel glanced over at Emilie with a chuckle.

“How do you do it?” Nathalie piped up.

“Do what?” The lighting from overhead back it look like his eyes sparkled as he turned to face her.

“How do you let other people not get to you?”

His arm lowered. Hand squeezed her upper arm. The feel of his breath prickled on her neck as he leaned in and said in a low voice:

“I remember that they are very, very shallow human beings and they’re miserable deep down inside. Some might say they need compassion, but you and I know that kindness won’t keep them in line. So if they throw shit at me, I will spoon feed it to them back on a silver spoon. They deserve it. And if it makes them hate themselves and feel more miserable the better. Then they’ll fuck up and I get the last laugh. Oh those moments make my _year.”_

Nathalie’s cheeks dimpled. She laughed. He joined in.

“Now that’s the Nathalie I like to see! Come on, let me get a good look at you.”

The pressure of his arm lifted. He cupped her cheek and gently tilted her head. Nathalie breathed. Lips parted, lashes fluttered, unsure whether to keep her eyes open or shut. The side of her head relaxed just as his hand slowly slid away. 

Emilie flung herself at Gabriel.

“Gabey! Gabey! We’re gonna take shots! You too! Come!” Emilie pointed at Nathalie. 

“I’m coming dear!” Gabriel’s lips smacked against her ear as he stood up with another laugh. Emilie dragged him off. Nathalie picked up her drink.

“I think I’ll just watch.”

________________________________

Gabriel and Emilie had retreated into their own little world. By the bar, their lips were sealed together in a loose lock. Her hands snaked over his shoulders. His gripped her waist and the other crept up her thigh. A whisper, giggles, and several places down Nathalie averted her eyes. Her glass was empty when Emilie tipsily pulled Gabriel onto the dance floor. Arms wrapped around each other. Hands positioned and repositioned on shoulders, waist, hips, buttocks. Their bodies collided, pressed against each other in time to the upbeat tempo of the dance song. Emilie’s hips jutted in. Gabriel’s mouth suctioned on her neck. Hand reached up to fondle her breast. Heart pounding, Nathalie ordered another drink. Her face scrunched up as she tried to force as much of it as she could down her throat. She sputtered. Coughed. And sighed as glanced down at the stain on her top.

“Nathalie!”

Emilie staggered over. Her heels slid and she balanced her upper body against the bar counter for support. Sweat dripped down her forehead. Eyes bulged, off in la-la land as she tugged on Nathalie’s arm.

“Nathalie! Come on! You should go have some fun!” 

“I will,” Nathalie tried to wriggle out of Emilie’s grip. 

But Emilie was stronger and quicker. Nathalie was up on her feet and Emilie was spinning her around. 

“You’re looking so sad! I don’t want you to be sad. You should be happy and dance!” 

“I’m-I’m not sad—“ Nathalie did not sound convincing. 

Emilie stopped, then gasped as an idea came to her. 

“I just like had the best idea! Let’s look for a guy for you! You’ve been single for way too long. You need a _boyfriend!_ ”

Guilt bubbled inside Nathalie again. 

_The only guy I’d like to have as a boyfriend is already taken_

Emilie picked up Nathalie’s drink and took a sip. She began to blab in a loud voice:

“Ever since I started dating Gabey I’ve been so happy! I’ve never been this happy before! No one has stayed by my side. Everyone else goes away from my life or is never around like mommy and daddy but he’s stayed and you’ve stayed and that’s why you’re so special and he’s so special—“

The drink spilled over the rim. Emilie drained it then set the glass with a _clang._

“And I’m gonna marry him!”

Nathalie blinked. She opened her mouth and said in a leveled tone:

“Emilie, you’ve only been dating him for four months.”

“But I looove him sooo much! We’re gonna get married! And have a big wedding! And have a house here in Paris and one by the beach, and one in the countryside. And we’ll have five kids, no twins, and I’ll leave them with the nanny so I can like travel and party and become an even more famous model than Amelie, and a movie star, and Gabey will be the best fashion designer in the world, and you and me will be best friends for life, and my life will be _perfect!_ ” 

Emilie finished with a clap. She then glanced around and exclaimed:

“Where’s my _boyfriend?_ Where’s Gabey? I wanna dance with him! Gabey! _Gabey!_ ”

She stumbled. Nathalie jumped forward.

“Emilie maybe you should sit down for a few—“

But Emilie was already half way towards the dance floor. Her arms extended out by her sides and she swayed to her own rhythm. Her head tilted up towards the ceiling lights and she closed her eyes as if sunlight were streaming down upon her.

“Isn’t she _beautiful?_ ”

Gabriel was standing behind her. A gaze of absolute adoration graced his face. His eyes glowed. Smile stretched from cheek to cheek. The stiffness of his stance loosened as he followed Emilie’s movements. 

“Look at her. How she brightens up the dim of this room with her dance. So uninhibited and carefree yet is graceful with her steps. She is so vibrant, so full of _life_ and radiates _pure_ joy from every pore. She has that _spark_ that I lost long ago and I’m grateful to come across it again. She’s a _goddess_ and I pity everyone who don’t know how blessed they are to be in her presence. I could watch her for hours.” 

Nathalie kept her gaze on the dance floor. 

“Why don’t you dance with her?” She asked. 

“I did,” he replied. 

“She wants to again. Or at least that’s what she told me.”

Gabriel reached up and slicked his perfectly coifed hair back.

“And I do whatever my little princess pleases.”

He made a movement as if to leave then stopped.

“Why aren’t you enjoying yourself?”

“I—“

Gabriel moved in closer towards her.

“The night is young and you’re young. You should be having the time of your life. Live up a little. Let your hair down. Figuratively—“ 

Gabriel’s hands went up to the top of her head. He undid her ponytail.

“And literally.”

His hands ran through the sides of her hair as it flowed just past her shoulders. He paused and bounced the ends up and down.

“You’ve got _gorgeous_ waves. Lots of volume and a nice healthy shine. It’s a shame you just throw it back in a ponytail all the time.” 

“It’s easier to deal with. It takes a lot of time to style my hair,” Nathalie said.

A pensive expression crossed his face. A finger twirled one of her strands, then hands went to bunch up her hair again. A strand stuck out in the front and he want to smooth it back. 

“You like my hair?” Nathalie looked straight at him with a smile. 

“I love it,” he said. “Though I think I have a solution about how to keep your hair comfortably up and still show it off to the whole world.”

He gathered her hair as high as he could pull it up. His hands gently smoothed the top then went to loop the hair into the hairband. He coiled it around in a circle, making sure to keep the loose part tight. Once he was done he slowly removed his hands, and reached into his pocket to pull out a box of hairpins he kept on hand for Emilie.

“A high bun is _timeless,_ ” he said as he fastened the pins into place. It highlights the sharpness of your cheek and jaw, that gives you the edge to stand out. Goes with just about any outfit you can think of and gives a hint of professionalism. Sexy, isn’t it?” 

Once the pins were in, Gabriel fixed her bang into its usual resting spot. He stepped back and admired his handiwork.

“Damn, I wish I had a mirror you look _incredible._ ”

The two drinks she already had and his compliment sent a blush up her cheek.

“Thanks.”

Gabriel took her hand.

“Let’s go out to Emilie.”

The music blared. The lights changed color in time to the beat. One hand clung in Gabriel, the other in Emilie’s as they jumped up and down and spun about in a circle made just for them.

_________________________________________________

Gabriel thrusting 20 note Francs at the cab driver, Emilie fumbling for the keys, how the foyer appeared to spin as she stepped in, the feel of Gabriel’s hand on the small of her back, came in Nathalie’s vision as a series of flashes. She blinked and found herself stretched out on the living room couch. Gabriel was in one of the armchairs, and Emilie was rustling through the liquor cabinet. 

“Where’s the champagne?” She shouted. 

“What champagne?” Gabriel’s cheeks were ruddy and his glasses lay askew on his face.

“The one Mommy and Daddy gave me for my 18th!”

“Isn’t it Amelie’s too?” Nathalie’s voice came out higher than her normal speaking voice. 

“Who cares about _her?_ If she wants champagne she can like get herself and _dammit the bitch took it!_ ” Emilie whined and stomped her bare foot. 

“Then find something else.”

“It’s not fair! It’s not _fucking_ fair! Mommy and Daddy gave it to _me!_ It’s—oooh—“ Emilie was distracted by something in the cabinet. She reached in and pulled out a bottle of rum.

“Let’s be real fancy and have an after clubbing drink!” She leaned back against the cabinet, still slightly unstable.

Three glasses clinked. The rum tasted bittersweet and felt thick as it trickled down Nathalie’s throat. The grandfather clock in the far corner ticked. Their voices echoed, loud and abrasive. More rum poured. A new hour chimed. Obnoxious laughter shook the whole room. Emilie popped up from the floor and made eyes at Gabriel. 

“Gabey I have a surprise for you!” Emilie put on her best sultry voice. 

“A surprise?” He was intrigued. 

“Nathalie! Nathalie! Get the song!”

A dash to Emilie’s room, then back to the living room. Gabriel was sliding down in the armchair, Emilie pacing about in anticipation. CD in the stereo, Nathalie pressed play, skip, skip, skip, skip, skip, then play again. 

_Alcoholic kind of mood. Loose my clothes loose my lube—_

Emilie flipped her hair behind her. Gabriel’s wolf-whistles drowned out the song. Shoulders loosened, hips swung side to side. Feet rocked on the living room rug. The song intensified. The arms that waved about moved in. Hands slid across the neckline of her dress, grazing across the cleavage. Then her hands spread out and down they slid. Cupped, pushed up. Fingers hooked into neckline with a tug, baring as much skin as it let her allow.

_What a gas. What a beautiful ass._

The song transitioned into the chorus. Emilie widened her stance as she approached Gabriel. With her back facing him, her bottom jutted out and wiggled. His hands kneaded, slapped, then took hold of her hips and maneuvered her to turn. She clung to his shoulders. The ends of her dress slid up as she straddled him. Hips thrust forward, she pressed down with slow grinds. A slight pull back and she undid the buttons on his shirt one by one. Her hand moved across his bare chest in wide, lingering circles. Nathalie’s head was too heavy for her thoughts to rage with jealousy, and redirect her attention elsewhere instead of invading the intimate moment playing out in front of her. 

_Kind of buzz that lasts for days. Had some help from insect ways—_

Emilie was back on her feet. Gabriel reached for the rum bottle that sat on the living room table and suggestively propped it up between his thighs. Emilie licked her lips and knelt down. A firm grip around the neck, her tongue protruded out to trace the rim of the bottle. Her mouth latched down in a suck before picking up the bottle and taking a swig. Nathalie snorted. She rolled over the side of the couch and onto the floor.

“That’s all?” Gabriel breathed. 

“It’s a part of the show Gabey! Be patient!” She cajoled. 

_Comes across all shy and coy just another Nancy Boy—_

“But I want _more,_ ” Nathalie’s eyes bulged as she saw Gabriel’s hand slide over the fly of his jeans. 

“Then you’ll get more!”

_Just another happy junkie—_

In between gyrations, Emilie extended a hand out and helped Nathalie up.

_Going down—_

“Come on Nathalie let’s dance!” 

The song’s volume amplified through the high tech speakers. 

_And it all breaks down at the role reversal._

Goosebumps prickled on Nathalie’s skin as the music flowed through her. She swayed. Spun. Combat boots scraped against the stretches of wooden floor that weren’t covered before being flung off. A few hairpins loosened and her bun slid down. Nathalie grabbed the hairband holding it up and let her hair free. Whistles and cheers shook the room. 

_Got the muse in my head, she’s universal._

Gabriel raised his glass. Nathalie sent him a smolder before grabbing onto Emilie’s hands. With eyes still on Gabriel, Nathalie and Emilie danced, sliding back and forth, twirling around, moving arms from side to side. Then Emilie stumbled. Nathalie leaned forward with a giggle. Then back as Emilie’s hands clutched her hips. She knocked against her pelvis. 

_Spinning me round. She’s coming over me._

“Now _that’s_ sexy,” Gabriel exclaimed.

Emilie steered Nathalie as she ground against her. She propped her chin onto Nathalie’s shoulder and leaned forward. Nathalie’s head rolled. Lips curled up into a giddy smile. Emilie’s finger tilted Nathalie’s chin towards her. She leaned in and kissed her full on the mouth. 

_And it all breaks down at the first rehearsal._

A second of shock passed before Nathalie found herself reciprocating Emilie’s kiss. It wasn’t that different than kissing a guy, she reasoned. Except that all those times when she had kissed guys and past boyfriends she had been sober. She was drunk now, kissing her best friend who was even drunker. The kiss was rushed, sloppy, slobbering as saliva pooled in her mouth and trickled out.

_Got the muse in my head—_

They were facing Gabriel now. His eyes were on her, no _them_ but Nathalie found that her body had become static by the intensity of his gaze. Emilie however, was not still. Her head, neck, and upper body moved with the motions of the kiss. Hands that jumped from Nathalie’s head, cheeks, shoulders, waist, and then to the end of her crop top which she proceeded to pull up and over her head. 

_Me. Me. Me._

The shirt landed by Gabriel’s feet. He was now on the floor, leaning back against the foot of the armchair. Nathalie broke off the kiss. The song’s interlude chimed in:

_Does his makeup in his room. Douse himself with cheap perfume._

She turned towards him and stood as tall as she could. A lick of her lips, her chest puffed out and she said a confident, sensual tone that wasn’t hers:

“Do you want to taste her?”

_Eyeholes in a paper bag. Greatest lay I ever had._

Gabriel’s hand tilted the handle of his glasses upward. He shot Nathalie a smug, aroused grin as she started forward. Her pace was slow. Bold. Unintentionally matching the song’s tempo. 

_Kind of guy who mates for life. Gotta help him find a wife._

Towering over him, her hands clamped down on his shoulders. Own glasses slid forward a centimeter as his hands took hold on her waist. Their foreheads bumped. His hand steadied her back upright, and rested on the fabric of her bra. His breath, smelling of rum and a hint of a cocktail he’d drank earlier, hit her with full force. The thin, pinkish flesh of his lips brushed against hers’. His hand cupped. Slid onto skin. Head moved, and their lips collided.

_We’re a couple when our bodies double._

Nathalie’s heart was _racing._ Her whole body, even the parts that were exposed felt _burning hot._ The gasp for air that surged hit the air as a moan. Pulled in for more. The palm on her back flattened. His free hand ran through her hair. The pressure of his lips was firm. Hard. Yet agile as his movements eased her mouth open. The taste of lingering alcohol overwhelmed her senses. The feel of his tongue prodding in and out and the numbness on her lips shot out through her body as a jolt. Towards her arms that angled her hands towards every surface of bare skin she could touch. Through her chest that beat even faster and pounded harder. That sunk down onto the front seam of her leather pants that compelled her to press her hips against him. 

_Got the muse in my head. She’s universal._

Gabriel’s moan vibrated on the surface of her lips. Nathalie’s mouth widened and puckered up into a suck against his lower lip. Hands tugged on his shirt and pulled it down his arms and out before returning to explore the tautness of his chest and stomach. She lowered herself down even more, feeling how the arch of her hips made his thighs tense and the rest of his body squirm. Then she shook as his hands glided down the curve of her buttocks. Squeezed. Then crept back up towards the band of her bra. He delicately unhooked it, then hands laid flat against her back to guide her down. 

_Spinning me round. She’s coming over me. Me. Me._

Somewhere, somehow, the song started to play again.

________________________________________________________

The CD in the walkman spun around as the song transitioned from the intro to the vocals. Nathalie’s notebook with the translated lyrics lay on the bedroom floor. Though it was dark, the twinkle of the streetlights from outside peeked through the window and illuminated the page’s glossy surface. Neat cursive lined the page, with the English lyrics written in red pen, and French in black. Then the red rippled. A tear fell onto the first line and smeared the ink.

_I know. You want the song but not the singer._

Nathalie’s free hand stifled her cries. The walkman shook in her other hand. Shoulders lifted in an attempt to sit up straight but she hunched over the notebook. Red ink mixed with black. On her own face, her eyeliner streaked and stung her cheeks. 

_I know. You’ve got me wrapped around your finger._

It was agonizingly clear. Gabriel had been leading her on this whole time. He seduced her with his affection and grandiose style. Lured her in with a false sense of hope that there could be someone out there who was smarter, prettier, and more worthy of his attention than Emilie? That she was his muse, his goddess that had been hiding in plain sight? That he would fall in love with her like she had dreamed? How foolish she had been to think she _ever_ had a chance. 

_I know. You want the sin without the sinner. I know. I know._

Her guard had been down and he indulged her. Let her kiss him, run her hands all over his body, undress him, _feel_ , even taste him like a lover would. But then Emilie rose. Her hair shone like sunlight, body appeared to glow as she nudged Nathalie aside and crawled on top of him. She was the center and he steadied under the force of her gravitational pull. His expression melted. Pelvis rose. And from there, Gabriel and Emilie’s world revolved around each other. Nathalie, half naked, had been backed into the couch. She could only sit and watch as Emilie’s hips bucked back and forth. Listen to how Gabriel moaned underneath Emilie’s touch. Holding tears back as Gabriel rolled over to Emilie after and held her against him as sleep overcame them. 

Nathalie didn’t matter. She had never mattered to Emilie or Gabriel. For them, she was just someone to use. Toy with. Deceive. And discard like a twice worn expensive outfit once she had served her purpose. She was certain now, that they would act like she had never existed. She _didn’t_ exist, as far as they were concerned.

In her room, Nathalie crumpled. Her high pitched sob matched the guitar’s wail. 

_I know. The past will catch you up as you run faster. I know. The last in line is always called a bastard. I Know. The past will catch you up as you run faster. I know._

[ _I know._ ](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=gGGWN2T-Nno)


End file.
